


In Relative Safety

by tahirire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comment Fic, Gen, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-21
Updated: 2010-06-21
Packaged: 2017-10-26 05:41:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tahirire/pseuds/tahirire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the <span><a href="http://spnquotefic.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://spnquotefic.livejournal.com/"><b>spnquotefic</b></a></span>  meme # 1, <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/spnquotefic/721.html">The Pilot</a>. Prompt: <em>Dean: "So, what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?" Sam: "No. Not normal. Safe."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	In Relative Safety

Dean doesn't just move right in.

That would be presumptive, and weird, and not just a little pathetic. He has the beer. They talk. She cries, and she says she doesn't know what _she's_ crying for. He tells her it's okay, and then he wipes a hand over his face and laughs bitterly. She understands. He tells her goodnight. She begs him not to go, and he says it won't be far, or for long, if that's okay with her. She looks afraid, but she nods her consent.

He drives back to the motel and gets _lit_.

She comes and finds him two days later, staring blankly at _I Love Lucy_ reruns with his .45 in one hand and a bottle in the other, and she doesn't say a word. She picks up the remote, flicks the TV off, sets the gun on the bedside table, hauls him forward, and aims him at the shower.

That night they have an actual dinner, and when he leaves, the look in her eyes tells him that if he knows what's good for him, he'll be back tomorrow.

When he gets there, she isn't home. He figures maybe she's driving the kid to school. He doesn't even know what month it is. The days since he ... well, time hasn't been moving at its normal rate of speed this year. He could break in, but it would feel wrong to him, so he sits in the driveway and waits.

The Impala is quiet and still, and the longer he sits there, the more uncomfortable he becomes. He doesn't sit with her anymore, not really. There is too much space, and the silence echoes in the chasm he has gnawing on his spirit, and it reminds him of the Void, and everything is too black and too still and too empty without Sam.

He climbs out and leans across the roof instead, eyeing Lisa's house. It's a nice place. She's done a real good job of turning it into a home. Old ghosts whisper to him, telling him that this isn't a good idea, him thinking about staying around here.

"It's safe, you know."

Dean nearly jumps out of his skin.

" _Dammit_ , Cas!" He growls, clutching at the doorframe for support. He turns to level a harsh stare at the angel. "What?"

Castiel presses his lips together in sympathy. Dean wants to deck him. "This residence. It is safe. I ... thought you should know."

Dean studies the ground. It turned out the reason Cas sucked hard at goodbyes is because he couldn't seem to stay gone for more than a few weeks at a time. It should be good to see him now, considering his news, but Dean doesn't want him here.

If they had bothered to watch over him this way when he was young, if they had cared when Sam was at college, if _anyone_ could have ...

The temptation is too great, and his need for Sam still too strong to just stand there and chit-chat with an all-powerful Archangel that can travel back in time about helping him _now_ when there is so much he wishes he could change about _then_.

Cas knows that, too. The knowledge only makes it harder for them both. Dean nods, grateful in spite of his resentment - for Lisa and Ben's sake.

"Thanks, Cas," he manages, but when he looks up again, the angel is already gone.

Lisa makes it back not long after that, and she lets him in. Dean can't see the sigils on the walls or feel the barriers of power at the edges of the property, but he trusts that they exist, and he finds himself relaxing fractionally as they talk.

~*~

Lisa goes jogging early every morning, and she does most of her deep thinking then. It's been weeks since Dean showed up on her doorstep. He comes around a lot, but he's not ready for more than that, not yet.

She rounds a corner and passes Diane's driveway, tossing out a cheerful hello wave at her neighbor as she goes. Diane motions her over. She looks upset, and Lisa stops at the mailbox to see what's wrong.

"Lisa, sweetheart," Diane says, reaching out and taking both of her hands, "How have you been? We've all been worried about you."

Lisa smiles politely in spite of her confusion. Diane is the head of the neighborhood watch, and Lisa is getting a sinking feeling in her gut. "What do you mean?"

Diane leans in conspiratorially. "That young man that you've been ... the one with the black car?"

Lisa drops Diane's hands abruptly, crossing her arms and nodding. "His name is Keith," she states. "What about him?"

Diane looks flustered, as if she has said something wrong. "I'm so sorry, dear ... I don't mean to intrude, but ... I've known a few young women in the past who have gotten involved with ..." The woman actually looks pained now, as though she wants Lisa to read her mind instead of making her spit it out in plain English.

"Involved with what?" Lisa asks, her voice dripping intentional naiveté.

Diane's face flushes to match her hair. "Honey, men like him ..." She sighs, putting on her no-nonsense voice. "I've seen the bottles, sweetheart. I've seen that black car all hours of the night. I know he's living in a hotel. I'm just saying ... if you need anyone ..." she gathers up some courage. "You just call me and Tom, okay? Men like that ... they aren't safe."

Lisa counts to ten, surprised at the rage she feels in Dean's defense. Then she counts back down from ten, reminding herself that Diane is only trying to help.

She opens her mouth and finds that her throat is tight with emotion. She goes ahead and lets the tears swell to the edges of her eyelids. Why not.

"His name is Keith, and he's a cop. He saved my son's life. I owe him ... everything. And he just lost his partner, and he needs some time to deal."

Diane's eyes widen.

"You're right. He's the most dangerous man you'll ever meet. And there is _no one_ on this planet I would rather trust with my son's life – or with mine. So thank you for your concern, but we'll be fine."

Lisa pats Diane on the arm, pulls her headset out of her pocket and puts it on. She flips her iPod to _Ramblin' On_ and goes on with her jog.

She doesn't look back.

 


End file.
